


i'll drive that stake through the center of my heart

by birthofsailorvenus



Category: The OC (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brief mentions of child abuse, Eating Disorders, Gen, Nebulously set in Season 1, Sick!Ryan Atwood, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birthofsailorvenus/pseuds/birthofsailorvenus
Summary: Ryan hated being hungry. It reminded him too closely of his time in Chino, when his mother or her latest boyfriend had spent their grocery money on drugs or alcohol or even just rent. The emptiness inside of him felt deep and hunger amplified it tenfold.He pushed it away, sat at the table with the Cohen’s and tried to remember he was in a house with cupboards full of more food than he could ever dream of eating, even if he did want to eat it.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm writing a fic for The OC in 2021. Who knows if anyone is even still in this fandom. 
> 
> Title taken from "No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross" by Sufjan Stevens. 
> 
> Please heed the warnings. This fic is outlined and should upload frequently.

“Who gets bronchitis? What are you some kind of consumptive Victorian child?” Seth said to Ryan as he walked in from the poolhouse for breakfast.

“Good morning to you too” Ryan replied, coughing a little as he poured himself some orange juice. “Besides, it’s just a cold. I don’t know why your parents are making such a big deal out of this.”

“Nothing is ever just a cold in this house, Ryan. Trust me, the Cohen’s come from a long line of worrywarts and fussbudgets. You just have to go with the flow.”

Ryan turned to Seth with a smile, orange juice in hand. “Fussbudgets?”

“Yeah, fussbudgets. Just let Mom and Dad mom-and-dad you and you’ll be fine.” Seth slapped Ryan on the shoulder just as Sandy walked in to grab a salt bagel and look at Ryan with concern in his eyes.

“You, kid, should be resting. I could hear you coughing from upstairs! Your doctor’s appointment isn’t for a few hours yet. You know, I could’ve brought you breakfast to the poolhouse.” He said with a shake of his head.

Ryan felt shame burn in his stomach like a fuse he had flipped and then shorted. He didn’t want anyone taking care of him when he could take care of himself, cold or no cold. He had only been sick for a few days, his cough powerful enough that his ribs hurt when he breathed but he knew it would pass. What could a doctor do for him that resting and orange juice wouldn’t cure anyways?

“Thanks, Sandy, but I think I can manage some cereal on my own.”

“Well, I’m just glad you have an appetite. I’ll be back to pick you up for your appointment with Dr. Green at 11:30. Kirsten has a big meeting she can’t miss today.”

With that Sandy was on his way, a flurry of jacket sleeves and briefcase and Ryan wondered what the hell he had gotten himself into when he agreed to stay with the Cohen’s.

********

Sandy picked Ryan up at 11:30 in the Range Rover and drove him to what Sandy called Newport’s foremost pediatrician, one Seth had apparently been seeing since birth. Ryan never had a family doctor in Chino, hadn’t seen a doctor in years in fact. His mother was always drunk or high or working a job with no leave so he would just get through any illness by himself. He had always pulled through in the past so the concern from Sandy and Kirsten when it was obviously just a cold unnerved him.

They sat in a comforting powder blue waiting room, Sandy paging through magazines and snarking mildly about movie stars while Ryan tried to stifle his urge to cough. Finally at noon, the receptionist, a pretty brunette woman in sensible shoes, ushered him and Sandy into a waiting room with white orchids lining the windows and watercolour pictures of Winnie the Pooh characters on the wall.

“Good afternoon, Sandy. And you must be Ryan Atwood! I’m Dr. Green. Sandy tells me you have a cough and a fever. Unfortunately, we couldn’t track down any recent medical records for you unless you’re really still an 8 year old with a broken arm.” Dr. Green said with a polite laugh.

“Um… no'' Ryan replied, uncomfortable. “I guess I haven’t been to the doctor in a while”.

“That’s not a problem. We’ll do a full physical while you’re here, just get it out of the way and put your minds at ease. We’ll start with taking your weight and height and then I’ll take a listen to your chest and get some blood work started, okay?”

Ryan looked at Sandy, feeling out of his depth, flushed and not just from the fever.

Sandy gave Ryan a smile and Ryan followed Dr. Green to a fancy looking digital scale and height reader.

“Let’s see here." He fumbled with the height reader. "You, Mr. Atwood, are 5’7 and 160 lbs. A little on the higher end of the BMI scale but you look healthy enough. We’ll monitor that for you in a few months.” Dr. Green said as he wrote the numbers down in a manila folder.

Ryan’s stomach tightened even more, embarrassed although he knew he worked out, was generally healthy, even though he ate like he imagined every 16 year old boy ate. He had never considered his weight before and he felt a little foolish for that. He was strong, had to be strong where he came from, and that had been all that mattered to him. Plus he played soccer at Harbour, was a good striker even though he was shorter than everyone else on the team.

But if a doctor was telling him he had to “monitor” his weight then maybe he should at least think about moving a little more than he already did, maybe eat less doritos and drink less of the mountain dew Seth loved so much. He didn’t necessarily want to lose weight but gain more muscle and that couldn’t hurt right? Ryan coughed as he was led back to the doctor’s office and let Sandy and Dr. Green talk about his cold symptoms and their golf swings as Ryan tuned them out.

********

A few weeks later, Ryan felt better and stronger than he ever had. He had taken up running on the beach, finding the resistance of the sand a challenge. Plus he had cut down on the amount of regular soda he drank much to Seth’s shock and amusement.

“A diet coke, Ryan? What, are you Marissa? Are you going to start wearing spaghetti straps too?” Seth teased as Ryan pulled one out of the fridge in the poolhouse kitchenette.

“Shut up. It doesn’t taste any different, you know. You should give it a try.” Ryan took a swig and flopped on the bed, in need of a shower after his evening run. Seth scoffed and went off on a tangent about date ideas for Summer, the mystery of girls’ minds and expectations thick in the air conditioned air of the poolhouse.

When Kirsten called them for dinner, Ryan was starving. He seemed to be hungrier than ever since he had started to run every day. The hunger was counterintuitive and displeasing. He tried to up his protein, had gotten a book on nutrition from the Harbour school library and read it front to back. He wanted to gain muscle and lose fat and giving in to his cravings and eating two helpings of mashed potatoes at dinner like he used to do wasn’t going to help him in that endeavour.

Ryan hated being hungry. It reminded him too closely of his time in Chino, when his mother or her latest boyfriend had spent their grocery money on drugs or alcohol or even just rent. The emptiness inside of him felt deep and hunger amplified it tenfold.

He pushed it away, sat at the table with the Cohen’s and tried to remember he was in a house with cupboards full of more food than he could ever dream of eating, even if he did want to eat it.


	2. Chapter 2

Ryan decided he needed to buy a scale. After 4 weeks of his new workout and diet regimen, he wanted to chart his progress like the nutrition book he’d taken out from Harbour had said he should do. The book stated that he should weigh himself once a week, at the same time of the day, just to get a consistent reading on his weight and general fitness.

He felt strong, could run faster and longer than he ever could before. He was scoring more goals in his soccer games and his coach had pulled him aside and congratulated him on his progress.

“You’re giving Luke a run for his money, kid. Keep it up.” The coach had said, grinning and giving Ryan a handshake. Ryan felt proud. He was seeing results and he just wanted to make sure he was staying on track.

His new scale was just a cheap digital one but he figured he didn’t need the fancy kinds they sold at the local department store. He took it out of its packaging and felt oddly shameful about his purchase and so ripped up the receipt and decided he’d hide the scale in the bathroom cupboard instead of keeping it out in the open like the one in the bathroom in the main house. He didn’t know why he felt that way but he imagined the look on Seth’s face if he knew Ryan was worrying about his weight like a girl.

He took off his shoes and stepped on the scale, the blue light of the read out screen going blank and then slowly creeping up. It finally settled and read out 159.5 lbs.

Ryan’s face fell.

4 weeks of running and cutting out soda and various other junk food from his diet and he had lost a measly .5 lbs? That wouldn’t do. Sure, he felt stronger and the book from Harbour said sometimes weight loss didn’t measure success but Ryan’s heart sank at the number. He had looked up his BMI and he was technically overweight for a 16 year old of his height.

He decided then that he’d add an extra half hour to his runs and stop eating junk food altogether. He’d up his protein and cut some carbs at dinner and breakfast. At least stop eating the bowl of dry sugary cereal and big glass of orange juice he usually had to start his day. He’d try it out for a week and see if he’d made any progress and reevaluate then.

********

“Sick, dude. Are you willingly eating hard-boiled eggs?” Seth sneered at Ryan as Seth walked into the kitchen to grab a bagel and the Arts and Leisure section of the paper in the morning before school.

“What’s wrong with hard-boiled eggs?” Kirsten asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Oh, you know, the smell? Ryan is stinking up the place with his breakfast. What are you eating anyway? Two eggs and an apple with peanut butter? Dude, that’s like… healthy.”

Kirsten laughed and said “You know Seth, you could learn from Ryan. He’s setting a good example for all of us.”

Ryan felt something twist in the pit of his stomach. He had started hating when people commented on what he was eating and felt strangely embarrassed that the Cohen’s had started to notice his food choices. He tried to shrug it off and replied “I’m just changing some things up.”

“Yeah, well, my body is a temple of doom so I think I’ll stick with my bagel and cream cheese.” Seth quipped and fell silent with his coffee and the newspaper.

Ryan considered his breakfast and suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore. He felt the urge to move, shaking his leg under the kitchen table, and mentally kicked himself for not going for a run before breakfast. Maybe he could fit one in at school at lunch, on top of his run in the evening.

He used to hate running, prefering to lift weights or do push ups, crunches, anything that didn’t leave him entirely breathless. But now running felt meditative and necessary. Once he got past the initial discomfort, he often felt the euphoria he had only read about in books. A runner’s high that rushed all the blood to his head and coasted him farther and faster than he had ever run before.

It felt like freedom and Ryan so often felt stifled in his head.

Once Seth had finished his bagel, Ryan looked at the remaining food on his plate and surreptitiously threw out the remnants while he knew no one was looking. He didn’t want to explain himself to anyone else that morning.

********

At lunch, Marissa happily ate a salad and a tuna melt while Ryan mentally calculated how many grams of protein and carbs he’d ingest should he do the same. He decided he’d eat half the bread to lower the net carbs and just focus on the tuna, cheese and nuts on the salad.

“... so I told my Mom I wouldn’t come home even if she renovates my room.”

“What?” Ryan realised he’d zoned out while looking at his food. He felt foolish, like he’d gotten caught with his hand in a cookie jar.

“I said my Mom is trying to bribe me to come back home but it’s not going to work.” Marissa replied, seemingly unaffected by Ryan’s lapse in concentration. Things had been tense between them since they’d broken up but they were starting to get back to normal. “Hey, want to go study in the library after lunch?”

Ryan considered the offer. He needed to study for midterms but he thought about this morning and his need to move, get out of his head and into his body. He thought about the rush of endorphins and weighed his options.

“Actually, I was going to go for a run after lunch.” Ryan told Marissa.

“Is the coach of the soccer team making you do that?” Marissa sighed. “Luke tells me he’s a hardass.”

“Ah… no. I just want to practise. I like running.”

“Who likes running. Ew!” Summer proclaimed as she walked up to Marissa and plopped down her tray of food and started chatting about her latest Step-Monster trials. Ryan was forgotten in the chatter and was happy for it.

********

A week later, Ryan took out his scale, slid off his shoes and stepped onto the cold metallic frame. He waited for the number to stop fluctuating and smiled when he saw the read out screen. 155.7 lbs.

Finally.

Progress.

The book on nutrition said he should aim for a loss of 1 lb a week but he figured the roughly 4 lbs he’d lost that week were just from him eating healthier and seriously exercising for the first time in his life. He knew it’d slow down and he was fine with that, not really aiming for any real numbered goal. He just knew that now he was at least within a normal weight range and it couldn’t hurt to continue doing what he was doing. He was even getting into a routine of it, eating the same thing every morning, going for his evening run, doing push ups and crunches post-run and then doing his homework if Seth or Marissa weren’t around to distract him.

It felt peaceful. Orderly. He was even getting used to the emptiness he sometimes felt after his run, making friends with the hunger which after some research he realised was a trick of the brain. Some people gained weight when they started to exercise because they didn’t realize that their body was making up for what it perceived as large calorie deficits that weren’t actually quite so large.

When he felt a pang, he no longer panicked quite so much. Usually he’d drink a diet coke or a glass of ice water and ride it out. Sometimes he’d snack on some almonds or something else protein dense. He was making new memories, Chino behind him and in the distance. Sometimes he even felt like Newport was his home, especially when he was running alone on the beach. It hurt too badly to think otherwise. He missed his Mom but he pushed that thought out of his head as he hid the scale back in the bathroom cupboard and got ready for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BMI is bullshit. That's all.


	3. Chapter 3

3 weeks had passed by and Ryan had kept to his new routine. So much so that Seth had started calling Ryan “grandpa” whenever Seth could peel himself away from Summer to notice that Ryan wasn’t available to hang out. Sometimes Ryan lied about where he had been, feeling slightly self-conscious at the amount of exercise he was doing even though he didn’t really have a reason to. It felt like a secret he was keeping and he wanted to keep it that way. Something that was wholly his own in a world that had already taken away so much from him. Besides, since Ryan and Marissa had broken up he’d had a lot of spare time and what else would he fill it with? He had good grades, played soccer, exercised and ate well. He was trying to turn his life around and he hoped his efforts wouldn’t be lost on Sandy and Kirsten. 

Since both Sandy and Kirsten had started working late at their respective offices over the past two weeks, Ryan and Seth had had free reign over the kitchen in the evening. So Ryan would cook himself dinner, offering some to Seth who always refused Ryan’s healthy meals in favour of snacking or ordering out or eating the mac and cheese Rosa would cook sometimes. 

One night while they were eating their dinners, Seth eating two slices of cheese pizza and Ryan picking at some soy sauce glazed chicken breast and ginger broccoli he had cooked, Seth considered him and said “Dude, are you on a diet?”

Ryan was taken aback. He immediately panicked and felt his cheeks heat up. He tried to rack his brain for some retort that would make Seth drop it but all he could muster was “It’s not a diet. I’ve just decided to eat a little healthier.” 

“I don’t know, sounds like a diet to me. Why are you on a diet, you’re so fit you’re making Luke look like he’s slacking off.” Seth seemed unconcerned, and Ryan knew he was just talking to talk, but Ryan’s head was firing at all cylinders. 

“You ever think that maybe I am so fit because I’m eating this way? Besides, I’m a good cook and it’s not like I’m starving.”

“Well, you’re missing out. This pizza is perfectly… mediocre but, hey, it’s pizza!” Seth said.

“You make it sound so appetizing” Ryan replied in what he hoped was a normal tone. 

“Hey, you want to have some Seth/Ryan time tonight? Maybe read some Legion or have some ninja fights to the dulcet tones of Death Cab?” Seth threw his crust on his plate, apparently finished while Ryan had barely gotten through his chicken breast. 

Ryan knew he hadn’t hung out with Seth in a while but he still hadn’t gone for his evening run. “Maybe later? I have to finish something first.”

“Homework? Say no more. Let’s meet back here in like an hour and a half? And get ready to get your ass kicked.” Seth mimicked a karate chip and cleaned up his plate before padding off to his room to presumably finish the essay on Frankenstein Ryan had already done last week.

With Seth in his room, Ryan let out a sigh he hadn’t known he was holding in. He tried to eat some of the food on his plate but his appetite was long gone. He felt suddenly exposed, like Seth had seen through him and seen the dark part of his brain that he admitted was starting to obsess and turn when he thought about food. He scraped the scraps of his dinner into the garbage and went to the poolhouse to get into his running clothes and headed to the beach. 

********

That night, Ryan stepped on the scale again. The digital screen read out 151.4 lbs. He had lost a little over 9 lbs in a month and felt pride rush to his head. He figured he could lose a little more and still be fine so he’d continue doing what he was doing. He was running for an hour and bit every day, pushing himself harder all the time, trying to chase his second wind. He noticed it was getting harder and harder to get there but he relished every time he did. 

He took off his belt and noticed his pants were a little looser these days. He looked in the mirror in the poolhouse bathroom, noticed his dark circles and thought that maybe he was pushing himself a little too hard, going a little too long. But he was firmly within the normal BMI range for a person his height and so he shook the thoughts out of his head. He felt too good to worry about anything right now. He hadn’t gotten into any trouble for months now, no fights, no arguments with Marissa, no detention at school. Sandy had even come to one of his soccer games which, if he were being honest, made him more sad than happy. It was a reminder that his Mom and Dad were never there for him when he was growing up and wouldn’t ever have the chance again. But he had the Cohen’s now and he tried to trust that. He didn’t do trust but he was working hard to stay on track and he knew actions spoke louder than anything he could say to explain himself once he got himself in trouble.

He didn’t have time for trouble now. He had school and soccer and working out. He had Seth/Ryan time and friends who didn’t look at him like he was broken, who didn’t know so much about his past because they were living it too. He had Sandy and Kirsten who cared about him even if he didn’t always know why. He was happy. 

********

A week later, Ryan stepped on the scale again. He tried to temper his excitement as the number crept up in it’s digital snow. He looked down and it read out 152.2 lbs. He had gained weight? Almost a full pound. He hadn’t changed anything about his diet or his exercise routine. His excitement turned to dread and a crushing feeling of shame. What had he done wrong? Sure bodies fluctuated, he wasn’t stupid, and the books he’d since read about nutrition had said as much too. But in the two months of him changing his eating habits, he’d only ever lost weight. He’d hit a plateau and so he needed to push himself harder if he was going to lose weight or he’d risk gaining it all back or more. 

He decided he’d skip breakfast from now on. Dinner would be smaller too if he could help it, depending on if Sandy and Kirsten were home. It was lunch at school he really couldn’t avoid but maybe he could start packing his own, with his own food. Not having to rely on the Harbour fare would make it a lot easier to stay on track since he’d be in control of what he was making. He couldn’t know for sure what was even in the salad dressing at Harbour. 

He decided he’d start going on a run in the mornings too, before anyone in the house woke up so he wouldn’t raise any questions from the Cohen’s. That had to be enough to get back on track, right?

********

“What’s that?” Seth said as he sat down with his burger and fries from the Harbour cafeteria. 

“What’s what?” Ryan said, purposefully obtuse. 

“What you’re eating. It’s burger day, man! This place costs like 20000 dollars a year, you might as well eat them out of house and home.” 

“It’s a salad with chicken. I made it last night.” Ryan said as he poured the balsamic dressing he had made over it. Although, truthfully, it was more just vinegar than a “dressing”. 

“Still on that health kick, I see, I see. Well, when you get sick of rabbit food I’ll be ready to drive you to In and Out for a real meal. Oh, my god, I just sounded like Luke. I’m sorry, Ryan, eat whatever you want, I need to reevaluate my entire life…” Seth faked despondency and popped a fry into his mouth. “So where were you this morning? We missed you at breakfast!” 

Ryan sighed and tried to think up a lie that would satisfy Seth’s incessant curiosity. Ryan was doing that a lot lately- lying- and he didn’t like the pit it opened in his stomach. It felt like he was doing something wrong but all he wanted was to be left alone with his thoughts and his routine and not have to answer anyone’s questions. Seth had Summer and his parents. Ryan didn’t even have Marissa anymore, not really. They were friends but it wasn’t the same as before everything had fractured them apart. It felt normal but normal didn’t feel good. Ryan just wanted something that was solely _his_. 

“I couldn’t sleep so I biked to school early. Got started on the presentation for World History.” Ryan managed. Half-truths. He had come to school early but not before running for an hour in the morning. He hadn’t gotten a second wind this morning, hadn’t felt that runner’s euphoria but he stuck with it and he was proud. He could do hard things too even if they felt punishing at the time. 

********

3 weeks later, Ryan laid on his bed after his run, too exhausted to even think about showering. He had shrugged off dinner with the Cohen’s, saying he’d felt nauseous and he’d decided to just skip dinner altogether tonight. He really did feel nauseous so it didn’t feel like too much of a lie. He eventually got up, not wanting to sweat all over his bed in his running clothes and forced himself to shower with the promise that he’d weigh himself afterwards. He’d been losing weight, his plateau seemingly pushed through and he was curious what the scale would say this week. 

After his shower, he stepped on the scale and watched the numbers rise on the blue screen. This felt like a ritual to him, something comforting and good. He was always a little nervous but mostly excited once he got on. 

Once he knew the number had settled he looked down and was taken aback in shock. It read back to him 140.3 lbs. 

He had lost 5 lbs this week, something he had never done before. 

He got back off the scale and stepped back on it again, just to be sure, and the number stayed the same. For a minute, he felt a pang of what could’ve been hunger but might’ve been concern. Maybe he should listen to the voice in his head telling him that maybe this was enough. Maybe he could ease off a bit, maybe he could afford to cut some of the runs shorter, maybe he could eat a little more. But on the other hand, the secret thrill he felt was heady, like the first drag of a cigarette. Afterall, he didn’t want to gain any weight back. He had read that keeping good habits was the most important part to keeping weight off when people started losing it. Otherwise people just gained it back and then some. 

Ryan wouldn’t be one of those people. He didn’t know when it had become so important to him that he wasn’t but he wouldn’t be.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ryan, have you lost weight?” Kirsten asked, stopping in between sips of her coffee in the morning to look him over. 

Ryan froze and immediately kicked himself. Way to look guilty when he had nothing to be guilty for. 

“Uh… maybe? I don’t know. I haven’t weighed myself.” He answered, another lie. 

“Ryan’s lost weight?” Sandy appeared, grabbing some coffee and some orange juice. He turned to Ryan, who felt like he was wearing entirely too little clothing even though he was wearing his standard tank top, overshirt and jeans. “You have, haven’t you. You’re looking a little peaky, kid. Are you feeling alright?” 

“He says he hasn’t weighed himself. Maybe we should, just to see. Can’t hurt to check. You’ve been feeling nauseous a lot lately too.” Kirsten said, her voice getting a little higher with mild concern. “Sandy, can you do that with him? I have to run to work, sorry, Ryan.” She said with an apologetic smile as she turned to leave. 

“Sure! I don’t have to be anywhere ‘til 10 today for once. Come on Ryan, I’ll take you upstairs and we’ll check it out.” Sandy slapped Ryan’s shoulder and Ryan panicked with the knowledge that Sandy would see that he’d lost not only “some” weight but over 20 pounds. He was still within a healthy weight range, in fact he probably weighed about the same as Seth and he was 3 inches taller than Ryan. But he knew logically that losing 20 pounds in 3 months wasn’t going to be something that engendered a lot of good will even if he had it under control. 

“I’m fine though. I mean if I’ve lost weight it can’t be much. I’ve just been feeling a little under the weather lately.” Ryan pleaded hoping the desperation he felt didn’t come out in his voice.

“All the more reason, to check, huh?” Sandy said with a smile. He turned to the hallway and Ryan reluctantly followed Sandy up the stairs to the master bathroom where a silver scale sat on the floor under a cupboard with a bouquet of white lilies sitting on top of it. 

“Okay, hop on up, kid. Let’s see what we’re working with.”

Ryan looked at him and seeing no other option, nowhere to run and hide, he stepped on the scale. The numbers on the screen glared up at him and Sandy and for a moment no one spoke. 138.4 lbs. 

Finally, Sandy broke the silence and looked at Ryan, concern in his eyes.

“Ryan, you’ve lost over 20 lbs since seeing Dr. Green only 3 months ago. Why didn’t you come to us? Are you feeling okay? If the nausea is that bad we should go get you checked out again.”

“No! I mean no. Sandy, I think it’s just stress. I’ve been under so much stress at school and maybe it’s getting to me. I don’t know. There’s nothing wrong with me though.”

“Are you sure? This is a significant amount of weight to lose in such a short amount of time. Maybe you should cut down on your runs. I know you do them every day. Just for a little while and see if you can gain a bit back. I don’t want you disappearing on me now, Ryan.” Sandy said, jovial with a hint of a lawerly edge that dared Ryan to argue with him.

“Uh… sure. Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll do that.” 

Sandy faltered for a minute and said “You sure you’re okay, kid? We hardly see you around the house anymore. And Seth tells me he hasn’t seen you around either. You know you can talk us, me and Kirsten, about anything, right?”

Ryan felt shame pool in his stomach. He was worrying the Cohen’s and that’s the last thing he wanted to do. They had done so much for him and what had he repaid them with? Getting into trouble and now this. 

“Yeah, Sandy. I know. It’s just there’s nothing to talk about, it’s just school.” 

“Don’t worry about school, Ryan, your grades are perfect! You can afford to go a little easier on yourself. Now come on, let’s get a good breakfast in you and I’ll drive you and Seth to Harbour.”

********

At breakfast, Sandy had toasted Ryan a bagel with cream cheese and a glass of orange juice. Ryan couldn’t shrug it off, not after their discussion in the bathroom, so Ryan choked it down and tried not to think about the carbs and sugar and fat he was ingesting. He had to admit he was hungry and it felt good to get rid of the emptiness in his stomach but the good was tinged with worry. He couldn’t believe he had turned into someone who was afraid of a bagel, like some girl who was counting calories. He wasn’t counting calories, he never counted calories. He was just aware of what was in the food he was eating and that wasn’t a crime. He was used to eating healthier now and that’s why he felt vaguely nauseous as he finished the last of the orange juice.

The day passed in a blur. He had been so caught off guard this morning that he had forgotten to pack his lunch and so he was forced to eat what was served at school. Lasagna and salad with Seth, Summer and Marissa, seemingly none the wiser to the alarm bells going off in Ryan’s head as he picked at his food.

By the time evening came, he was tense and hungry even though he had eaten more than enough all day. He just wanted to go for a run but Sandy had told him he should lay off and he didn’t want anyone worrying about him for no reason and certainly he could skip a few days and be fine. This would all blow over. It had to. He would make it blow over because he already felt out of control and it had only been one day. 

********

Days passed, the weekend came, and Ryan ate breakfast, lunch and dinner with the Cohen’s. He didn’t go for any runs and even stopped his other exercises in the evening just in case Seth walked in and let it slip that he had been working out alone in the poolhouse. He had to admit he enjoyed the reprieve and that made him angry at himself. He was being weak. He had finally gotten everything under control and now he had this pit in his stomach, this need that couldn’t be satisfied in any of his usual ways. 

He was constantly hungry. Even though he had started eating more than he had in months, a gnawing hunger ate away at him and he found himself snacking on whatever Seth brought out while they were playing video games- chips, soda, cookies- much to Seth’s delight. Ryan even kept eating after Seth had stopped, often polishing off a whole row of cookies or a whole bag of chips before he would sit down at dinner and eat whatever the Cohen’s fed him. 

By the time Sunday came, Ryan felt crazy. It was dinner time and he could smell the boxes of Chinese food from the living room and he couldn’t stop his mouth from watering. He felt ravenous. He didn’t know what was happening to him. He had been so good about eating healthily over the past few months and he was throwing it all away for shrimp fried rice.

“Dinner’s ready!” Kirsten called from the kitchen. 

“She means dinner’s here.” Seth whispered to Ryan with a smile.

“What was that?” Kirsten called back.

“Nothing, mom, we’re coming.” Seth turned off the Playstation and Ryan got up from the couch, feeling like he was walking to a slaughterhouse and not the dining room. 

Once they were all settled, everyone making their plates, Ryan was faced with a decision. He could beg off dinner, complain that he was full from the snacks he’d eaten with Seth, or he could shut up and eat the Chinese food He opted to shut up, if only because he was so hungry he couldn’t resist the beef and broccoli sitting right in front of him. 

Once Ryan started eating, he couldn’t seem to stop. Even after Seth had finished, Ryan scooped up another plate of chow mein and sweet and sour pork. 

“Whoa, Ryan, you going to eat the plate too?” Seth teased. 

Ryan stopped eating and felt his cheeks burn. He was aware of everyone’s eyes on him and his third plate of food and all he wanted to do was run away and hide. 

“Leave him alone, Seth, he’s a growing boy.” Sandy laughed. “You eat as much as you want, Ryan. It’s not like we don’t have enough food around here.”

“I’m just glad Ryan’s not eating like a rabbit anymore. All those salads. No joie de vive if you ask me.” Seth quipped. 

“A rabbit? Ryan was eating like a rabbit?” Kirsten asked, sipping her glass of wine. 

“I- I wasn’t.” Ryan chokes out before Seth can tell anymore tales. “I just wanted to eat a little healthier. And I still am, I’m just hungry today, I guess.”

“Nothing wrong with that, kid.” Sandy said, as he gets up from the table to clean the containers up. Sandy shot Kirsten a look Ryan couldn’t read and he put his fork down, appetite suddenly gone. 

********

Ryan came down from Seth’s room, where they were studying for a pre-calculus test, and heard Sandy and Kirsten talking quietly in the kitchen. Not wanting to disturb them, he thought about going out the front door to the poolhouse, until he heard his name being said. 

“Ryan lost over 20 lbs in 3 months and then we hear from Seth of all people that he was dieting?” Sandy said, concern in his voice. 

Ryan froze where he stood, feeling like he was under attack. 

“Dieting? Do teenage boys diet?” Kirsten replied, incredulous. 

“Well, apparently, this one does. Should we be concerned about this? Should I call Dr. Green? Ryan told me it was just stress but I’m not quite sure I buy it.”

“What are you suggesting, Sandy? That he has an eating disorder?” Kirsten’s voice suddenly turned serious. 

“No, no. That’s ridiculous. I don’t know. I never know with Ryan, he doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t talk to anyone.” 

“Well, he seems to not be on a diet anymore. Maybe it was a phase. Maybe it really was stress.” 

“Yeah, well, let’s keep an eye on him. I’ll try to be home for dinner more often. I know we’ve been so busy these days…”

Ryan shook himself and hightailed it out the front door before anyone could know he was eavesdropping. He ran to the poolhouse and closed the door behind him as quietly as he could before he collapsed onto his bed. An _ eating disorder? _ They thought he had an eating disorder? The only eating disorder he had was the one where he couldn’t stop eating. He was so full from snacking all day and then eating three plates at dinner and yet he still wanted more. He hated himself, his body, his  _ hunger _ . All he wanted was to go on a run but he knew that with Kirsten and Sandy already suspicious of his motives for his weight loss, getting caught exercising was a sure fire way to garner more questions Ryan wasn’t prepared to answer. 

Instead, Ryan had a shower, trying to ignore the fact that he knew he must’ve gained weight this week after all the food he’d been eating and his lack of exercise. 

When he got out, dried off, he considered the scale in his bathroom cupboard. It wasn’t his normal day to weigh himself but he was darkly curious about the damage he’d done to his body this week. Maybe if he saw the number go up, he could curtail the cravings and the hunger just like the last time the number on the scale had gone up instead of down. 

He stepped on the scale and dread built in his chest. He closed his eyes before looking down and saw the number staring back at him in shock. 142.9 lbs. He’d gained almost 5 lbs in less than a week. He felt himself flush and then felt a flash of anger so intense he wanted to punch the wall. He closed his fists, felt his fingernails dig into his palms and then released them. This wasn’t his house, he couldn’t destroy it. Instead, he got dressed in his sleep clothes and felt his eyes burn in a way he repressed. He would not cry. He wasn’t a child anymore. 

********

Ryan tried to sleep that night but by 2am he realised sleep wouldn’t come. Instead, he wandered into the main house, planning on watching TV on the couch until it was time for school. 

He went into the kitchen to grab a glass of water from the fridge, when he opened it and saw the leftover Chinese food from last night, piled neatly in its containers. The gnawing hunger he felt that evening was back and he looked at the food, opened the containers and thought that since he’d already fucked up his eating last night he might as well go all the way and start again, for real this time, tomorrow. 

He grabbed several of the leftover containers and a fork and quietly walked back to the poolhouse. He sat at the kitchenette island in the poolhouse, not even heating up the food before shoving forkfuls and forkfuls into his mouth. He couldn’t believe how good it felt, how absolutely numb the food made him feel, finally free from the worries he carried with him. 

He worried about his weight, about his status with the Cohen’s, about school. About his Mom. He worried she had left because she didn’t love him anymore, because maybe she never did. He worried about Trey, alone in prison, maybe hurt, maybe dead. He hated himself as he ate but he didn’t care because nothing could touch him right now. 

After he had finished the Chinese food, desperate for the numbness again, he walked to the house and took a bag of chips and a box of cereal to the poolhouse. He shoved the dry cereal and then the chips into his mouth in between sips of diet coke. He ate until he felt sick, until he couldn’t possibly eat anymore. 

He got rid of the evidence. Threw the trash from the kitchenette into the trash bins outside and then laid on his bed where he curled up and tried not to vomit. His stomach was so full, it felt like he would explode. He tried to breathe through the fullness but finally the nausea got too much and he ran to the bathroom, throwing up into the toilet with force. He vomited until his back spasmed and still felt the nausea ripping through him. When he couldn’t throw up anymore he sat on the floor of the bathroom and wrapped his arms around his middle. He felt relieved that the food had come out of him and he wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of his binge. Because that’s what it was, a  _ binge. _ He had  _ binged _ , had eaten so much he had thrown up but he still felt the pressure in his stomach, a phantom fullness. He got up from the floor and bent over the toilet trying to force more food up his throat. Nothing came and he felt desperate for the feeling in his stomach to go away. 

He had an idea. A dark one. One he had learned about in health class, an oddity he had thought at the time was kind of gross and so alien he could never imagine himself doing it. He knew if you stuck your fingers down your throat, you’d vomit. He never thought he’d ever do it but he felt he had no other choice. The food, the weight gain, it was more frightening to him than making himself throw up.

He bent over the toilet and stuck his fingers down his throat, heaved, gagging and coughing over his hand until more food fell out of him. 

Once he was finished, once the feeling in his stomach was gone, he flushed the toilet and brushed his teeth and crawled into bed, falling asleep in the early dawn light. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to repost this and the next chapter because AO3 ate a draft. Sorry!

Ryan had a new routine. It was one he was ashamed of but he couldn’t seem to stop it. At first it was once a week, the overeating, the throwing up, saved only for when he couldn’t control himself or when the Cohen’s were watching him particularly intently at dinner. Since he’d started throwing up, he’d been able to convince himself, his hunger, that if he controlled himself most of the time, curtailed the snacking with Seth and the overeating at dinner, he’d let himself lose control once a week and eat whatever he wanted, usually after dinner. 

He took his bike or drove the Range Rover to fast food restaurants and gas stations and grocery stores and stocked up on whatever he wanted to eat with his allowance. If he had the car, he’d drive out of Newport so no one would see him, knowing that should someone see him buying enough junk food for three or four people four times a month, the Newpsies would spread it around. He couldn’t risk this getting back to Kirsten and Sandy. He’d already had to lie about not knowing where certain food items had gone in the middle of the night, why there were no frosted flakes or cookies or chips when just the night before they’d be sitting in the cupboard. 

Lately though, it was happening more often. He’d be so good all day, shrugging off breakfast, lying about already eating it or managing to throw his food away after Sandy went to get ready for work after his morning surf session. He’d pick at his lunch or say he’d eat in the library since it was finals soon and just skip it altogether. And yet at dinner, the meal he couldn’t avoid because of the watchful eyes of Kirsten and Sandy, he would feel the hunger come back, enveloping him. He was losing control more and more, in front of the Cohen’s no less, and they’d tease him about his appetite and he’d blush but continue eating and then he’d grab the keys, saying he was going for a drive to clear his head, and hit up every convenience store and fast food place a town away.

He’d eat the hot stuff in the car while he drove and hid the rest of the food in his backpack before going to the poolhouse to “study” where he’d continue eating, sometimes in the bathroom with the door locked so no one could walk in on him, and then throw it all up. 

He was getting better and better at throwing up every time he did it. At first he didn’t know just how much he should heave and gag. He’d ended up putting on 5 more pounds in two weeks until he found out that he had to gag until he tasted the yellow bile that came out of his stomach, the tell tale sign that he had gotten all of the food out. Now he could do it all in less than 30 minutes, sometimes 20, quick and efficient. And the weight he’d gained was coming off too. 

The last time Ryan had stepped on the scale he’d come in at 137.8, a little lower than before the conversation with Sandy about his weight. He knew he’d have to be careful if he got any lower and started wearing looser clothing, stuff that didn’t reveal quite as much of his body. His tank tops were piled neatly in the wicker drawers in the poolhouse and an old sweater of Trey’s was his go too even though summer was just around the corner. 

********

A month went by and Ryan was still eating and throwing up, still losing weight, everything accelerating in ways he was both happy and unhappy with. He was happy to lose weight, not happy about the ways he was doing it. He fought with himself everyday, tried to make everyday one where he wouldn’t binge and throw up all his food. Purging, he found out it was called. That felt accurate. He didn’t like to admit it but some days he even relished the feeling he got after throwing up, the heady and dizzy feeling that would course through his body, his heart pumping wildly with the exertion. It felt like a runner’s high and left him feeling empty and clean, despite the extremely dirty work of cleaning up after himself. 

That night, after dinner with the Cohen’s, Ryan couldn’t help himself and biked to the nearest gas station where he stocked up on candy, chips, soda, ice cream, anything that could easily fit into his backpack before biking back to the pool house. He ate it all in one sitting in the bathroom. He ate until he couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t worry anymore, until he almost didn’t hate himself. Then he bent over and began throwing it up in the toilet. 

He was so caught up in vomiting the food he had eaten that he didn’t hear the knock on the pool house door. 

“Ryan, are you sick? Are you throwing up?” Sandy’s voice carried from behind the bathroom door. Ryan panicked, flushed the toilet, ran the water to wash his hands and shoved all the food wrappers and empty packages in the bathroom cupboard before composing himself. He walked out and saw a concerned Sandy and tried to make himself look nauseous and ill. 

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, I didn’t hear you walk in. I’m not feeling so good right now.” Ryan choked out, hoping he didn’t look too guilty.

Sandy seemed to buy it and walked up to Ryan, put a hand to his forehead. “You don’t have a fever. The nausea is back then, I take it?

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal. I’ve been feeling fine lately, I think I just had something off to eat today.” Ryan wrapped his arms around his body, hoping Trey’s sweater hid the weight he knew he had lost. 

“I just came in here to tell you we’re having a movie night but it looks like you should head to bed. You look tired, Ryan. You sure you’re okay? Haven’t lost any more weight?”

The conversation he’d overheard Sandy and Kirsten having in the kitchen flashed into his head, glinting dangerously in his memory like a knife. 

“No. I don’t think so. It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be fine.”

Sandy looked at him with something unreadable in his eyes. “I’m calling Dr. Green tomorrow, Ryan. I should’ve done it weeks ago but we’ve got to make sure nothing is wrong with you. First the weight loss, then I find you getting sick in the bathroom? Were you even going to tell us?”

Ryan bristled at that, feeling anger and guilt stir in his gut at the same time. “It’s nothing, really.”

“I’ll decide that. I’m your guardian, Ryan. It’s my job to worry. Don’t go to school tomorrow, I’ll call off work and take you to Dr. Green’s. Just get some rest, you look dead on your feet, kid.”

Sandy slapped him on the shoulder and turned to leave the pool house with a nod and a pained smile. 

Once Sandy had left, Ryan collapsed onto his bed, his heart pumping frantically. That was a close call but he didn’t escape entirely unscathed. He had to go back to Dr. Green’s and he didn’t know how he’d hide his weight loss from a doctor. He thought about Kirsten’s yogalates ankle weights in one of the garages. If he could sneak into the garage, take them, he could wear them while he got on the scale. He could drink a lot of water too, just to be sure. The last time he had weighed himself, he’d been exactly 128 lbs and he couldn’t let Sandy see he’d lost even more weight. That would lead to questions which Ryan had no answers too. He couldn’t exactly tell anyone he’d lost the weight by throwing up dinner everyday. They’d lock him up in a mental hospital for sure and he’d rather go back to juvie than let that happen. 

********

The next day, Ryan was silent on the drive over to Dr. Green’s. Sandy talked at him about surfing and his caseload while Ryan smiled and nodded at the appropriate places. 

“What, cat got your tongue?” Sandy quipped once he caught on that Ryan wasn’t going to talk to him that morning. 

“Just tired.” Ryan said. Which was true, Ryan was always tired these days. A consequence of not eating enough and throwing up when he did let himself eat. 

“Talk to Dr. Green about that Ryan too. You look like death warmed over.”

“Gee, thanks.” Ryan said wryly. He felt like death warmed over. Everything was getting to him and he was tired of being afraid of being found out. He wished everyone would leave him alone, let him eat and throw up in peace, let him lose weight and stop being so goddamn concerned. 

“I’m serious, Ryan. We’re worried about you, all of us. Seth says you haven’t been hanging out with him even at school. Even Marissa says she thinks you’re avoiding her. If somethings going on with you, if you’re depressed, we can help.” Sandy stopped at a red light and turned to Ryan. “If you need to talk to someone who isn’t me maybe we could look into getting you a therapist. Someone more objective, huh?”

“No! No… really I don’t need to see a shrink. I’ve just been stressed and busy. I’ll make time for Seth, don’t worry about it.”

“This isn’t about you not making time. You’re not Seth’s babysitter. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Well, I’m okay.” Ryan sighed and turned to look out the window. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

“Okay. Okay…” Sandy trailed off as they pulled into the parking garage for Dr. Green’s office. He dropped it even though he looked like he had more to say and Ryan was thankful for it. 

********

In Dr. Green’s office, Ryan went to the bathroom with his backpack and pulled out the ankle weights and a bottle of water. He didn’t want to put the weights on his ankles just in case they made him take off his shoes so he unstuck the velcro from the weight pouches, took out the square weights and placed them in his back jean pockets. He tugged Trey’s sweater down and drank deep from the bottle of water, making sure he got the whole thing. That should add 2 lbs of weight plus the 5 lbs each from the ankle weights in his pockets for a total of 142 lbs. That shouldn’t be too worrying, if he appeared to have gained weight since the last time Sandy weighed him. 

He walked out of the bathroom and sat down in the blue modern chairs of the doctor’s office while Sandy and Dr. Green talked about the Newport Country Club. Then Dr. Green turned to Ryan and said “Well, Mr. Atwood! What brings you in today?”

“He’s been nauseous lately and he’s lost weight and yesterday he threw up after dinner.” Sandy immediately interjected before Ryan could deny everything.

“I think Ryan can speak for himself, Sandy, don’t you?” Dr. Green smiled mildly at Sandy and then glanced at Ryan. “Well, son, what’s been going on?”

Ryan considered lying, saying everything was okay, but he figured somewhere in the middle was the best way to go about this. “Yesterday, I was feeling nauseous. I guess I feel nauseous sometimes. Sometimes I can’t eat because of it but I’ve been feeling fine lately. I think I just caught a stomach flu.” Ryan told Dr. Green. 

“We’ll do a full work up, check your vitals, take your weight and go from there. How does that sound, Ryan? 

Ryan nodded and Sandy looked at him intently. Again, he had that look on his face, like he wanted to say something. Ryan hoped he wouldn’t. 

Dr. Green pulled out a fancy looking blood pressure machine and stuck a clip on his finger to measure his heart rate. Ryan couldn’t see the numbers but heard the doctor say “Hmm…” as the machine beeped for the final time. “You’re blood pressure is a little low, Ryan. So is your pulse.”

Sandy’s eyebrows raised at that. 

“Just a little low, probably nothing to be concerned about.” Dr. Green assured the both of them. 

Then Dr. Green led Ryan to the scale and his heart sped up, jumping into his throat. He hoped his plan worked. 

“Still 5’7 and let’s see… 142 lbs. That’s quiet a significant loss, Ryan but you’re still within normal range. Have you been doing anything to lose weight? Or is this the result of the nausea?”

“He was dieting. But he seems to have stopped all that and he’s actually gained a few pounds since we weighed him last.” Sandy replied before Ryan could deny it all. 

Ryan bristled at the word “dieting”. He was never dieting. He was eating healthier and now he wasn’t even doing that. “I wasn’t dieting, just eating healthier.” He said. 

“Healthier, huh?” Dr. Green stopped and looked at Ryan. “Did that include cutting out salt? That could be the reason for your low blood pressure.”

Seeing an out, Ryan latched on to it. “Yeah, I guess I was.” He told Dr. Green. 

Sandy raised his eyebrows and shook his head in disbelief. Ryan was just glad he had somehow gotten through this doctor’s appointment without getting found out.

********

The rest of the doctor’s appointment was uneventful. Dr. Green had checked his stomach, found no problems and Ryan was relieved he had hid the weights in his back jean pockets instead of the front ones. He checked Ryan’s glands, found they were swollen and told him to rest up for the next few days and come back if he started feeling nauseous again. 

When he got back to the pool house, Ryan fell into bed and slept for the rest of the day. His nerves were shot and for once he didn’t feel hungry at all. He woke up to go to dinner and, for the first time in a while, ate a regular amount and didn’t even throw up afterwards. He hung out with Seth, Ryan looking sheepishly at him when he commented on the fact that they hadn’t hung out in a while.

“Yeah, just been busy.” Ryan said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Not too busy for Final Fantasy though, right?” Seth proclaimed and they stayed up late, getting lost in the video game and the easy banter between them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a new chapter, posted today. Sorry about having to repost the last chapter.

A month later, at the end of the school year, Ryan was exhausted. He was at soccer practise, practically asleep on the bench when the coach asked to speak with him in his office. Ryan tried not to roll his eyes, wondering what he could’ve possibly done wrong and how he would explain it to Sandy and Kirsten when they got home.

“Sit down, Atwood. I want to talk to you about something.” The coach told him gruffly.

“Yeah, coach?”

“You’re not coming to finals next week.”

Ryan’s face fell. What could he have possibly done to warrant not going with the team to finals? He had worked hard all year, showing up to every practise, scoring more goals than anyone on the team, even Luke. Sure he hadn’t quite been able to keep up his progress, finding himself too tired and winded to keep up with the other boys but even now he scored at least one goal a game.

“What? Why?” Ryan said incredulously. “What did I do?”

“Nothing, Atwood. Nothing at all. This isn’t a punishment. I’m worried about you. Listen, this might not be my place but you’ve lost a lot of weight this quarter and I’m concerned about your health.”

Ryan burned with anger. “You’re right, it’s not your place.” He shot back.

The coach looked taken aback and shook his head before continuing. “I’m calling your guardians. Until you can bring me a doctor’s note saying you’re fit to play, you’re not going to finals.”

Ryan panicked. If the coach called Sandy and Kirsten then he’d have hell to pay. He’d lost even more weight since seeing Dr. Green, weighing in at 121.3 lbs last week and he knew even the ankle weights and the water couldn’t artificially increase his weight that much.

Ryan felt anger burn within him. “Don’t bother, I quit.” He said icily as he got out of the chair and walked out of the office. He needed to get home before anyone was there to answer the phone.

********

Luckily, Ryan had biked to school that day. He deleted his coach’s message from the phone and knew no one would be the wiser. He was angry, so angry that he wanted to punch something, but he tried to push it away in favor of making something to eat while Seth was at Comic Book Club. No one would be home for another 3 hours. He rarely had the house to himself and he wanted to make the most of it, pulling leftovers and junk food out of the fridge and cupboards and taking it all to the pool house where he hoped he could eat at the kitchenette island and not in the bathroom for once.

He ate everything he could, with pauses to go throw up, before starting again, the cycle repeating itself. He found he had stopped digesting food normally, lunch often showing up in his vomit after school, and he felt relieved he was getting it out too.

When he was finished he still felt angry and antsy and waited desperately for dinner so that he could eat and borrow the car to drive to the next town over to buy food for his next binge. He sat through dinner, fuming, and gave one word answers whenever someone tried to engage with him. All he could think about was getting back to the pool house and eating, eating everything, anything he could get his hands on.

He didn’t even offer to help clean up after dinner before he shot up and was out of the house with the Range Rover’s keys. He went to the grocery store, picked up fast food, ate it with one hand on the wheel and focused on the absolute quiet of his brain.

When he got back to the pool house, Seth was waiting for him, reading comic books on Ryan’s bed.

“Hey, man! Where’d you go? I was hoping we could have a little Seth/Ryan time tonight.” Seth asked, sounding so hopeful Ryan’s heart turned over in his chest.

“Uh… I can’t tonight. I have homework.” Ryan told Seth.

“You always have homework. Don’t you have a 4.0? Come on, take the night off!”

“I can’t. Listen maybe later? I’ll come by the house if I can get my work done in a couple of hours.”

Seth looked disappointed and Ryan felt like dirt. He was choosing an evening of food and vomit over his best friend. Just like he had for the past few weeks. Just like he had for the past few months.

“Well, I don’t want to sound needy but okay. I’ll be around.” Seth said, sounding unsure and a little hurt.

Ryan nodded his head, tried to smile but all he could think about was the food in his backpack.

Once Seth was gone, Ryan locked himself in his bathroom with his backpack full of food. He ate it methodically, first the savoury and salty foods, then the sweet foods, all washed down with diet coke.

Finally, when he had finished, he bent over the toilet, stuck his fingers down his throat and began to throw up.

Once he had gotten it all out, once the acrid taste of bile was the only thing coming up, he flushed the toilet, washed his hands and packed up all the wrappers in a garbage bag. He tied it up and opened the door when he saw Seth standing in front of him looking shocked. Ryan froze.

“Ryan… man… were you throwing up?” Seth asked like he already knew the answer.

“Uh… yeah.” Ryan replied, seeing no other way out of this conversation.

“And do you do that a lot?” Seth asked, looking stricken.

“No! No, I just was feeling nauseous, you know… how sometimes… I feel nauseous.” Ryan couldn’t stop his heart from beating out of his chest, so loud Seth must be hearing it too.

“You were in there for a long time. I just… I came to get my chemistry textbook and I heard you and I was going to knock on the door, see if you were okay but you just… are you okay, man? Because it sounded like you were making yourself throw up. That’s crazy, right? Tell me that’s crazy.”

Ryan tried to formulate his thoughts, tried to think of an excuse and he came up short. “Yeah, that is crazy, Seth. I was sick. It happens.”

“‘I was sick. It happens.’ That never happens to me, Ryan. I’ve never made myself throw up before, not even when I got norovirus from bad airplane-”

“I wasn’t making myself throw up!” Ryan interrupted Seth. “I told you, I was sick. It happens. Get over it.”

“I’m telling Mom and Dad. Ryan, you can’t do this to yourself. Do you think we’re all stupid? We know something is going on with you. First you stop eating and you lose weight and then you start eating again and yet you’re still losing weight. Yeah, don’t think we can’t see under that sweater of yours. It’s a sweater not an invisibility cloak.” Seth looked distraught and angry at the same time. Ryan has never seen Seth look that way at him before. Like he didn’t even know Ryan anymore. “And where do you always take off to after dinner? Borrowing the car, hiding in the pool house, in the bathroom for hours.”

Ryan took a breath and weighed his options. “Listen, Seth. Okay, so maybe I was… maybe I was making myself throw up. But it’s not a big deal, okay? I’ve only done it a few times. I’ll stop, don’t get Sandy and Kirsten involved. It’ll just worry them and I have this under control. I won’t do it again, I promise.”

“Under control? You don’t have it ‘under control’, Ryan. This isn’t something I can keep a secret. You’re hurting yourself!” Seth took a deep breath in and said “I can’t believe I’ve been so blind. Ryan, this is dangerous.”

Ryan scoffed. He’d been doing this for months and nothing had happened to him. “Seriously, Seth. Drop it. I’m fine.” Ryan threw the trash down on the ground and tried to look as intimidating and serious as possible although he knew in his reduced state he probably looked a little ridiculous. He no longer was as stocky and strong as he once had been which pained him to think about but also sent a secret thrill up his spine.

“If you don’t tell Mom and Dad, I will. And not this lie about it only being a few times.”

“So what, you’re blackmailing me? Is that what you’re doing, Seth? I thought you were my friend.” Ryan yelled.

“I am your friend! You’re like a brother to me and brothers don’t let each other hurt themselves. Please Ryan, tell Mom and Dad. You’d do the same for me.” Seth looked at Ryan and Ryan couldn’t make eye contact with him. He was cornered. Nowhere to hide. “Come on, you’re scaring me, man.” Seth’s eyes welled up with what looked suspiciously like tears and he wiped them away. “Tell them.”

Seth was crying. Because of Ryan. He had never seen Seth cry before and he felt like he was intruding on something he shouldn’t have seen. He hurt everyone he loved: his Mom, Sandy, Kirsten. And he knew he was going to hurt them more if he told any of them about this.

“Okay.” Ryan said, defeated. “I’ll tell them tomorrow after-”

“Tonight, Ryan.” Seth said, firm.

“I’ll tell them tonight.” Ryan said. “I’ll meet you in the house in a few minutes. I just want to… get my bearings.”

“Okay… okay, man. I’ll see you soon.” Seth looked at Ryan, stepped closer and folded his arms around him in a hug. “This will be okay, we’ll make this okay.”

Ryan patted Seth’s back weakly and nodded even though he felt like nothing would ever be okay again.

********

Once Seth was gone, Ryan checked in his pocket and found the car keys. He held them in his hand for a minute before getting up, making a decision. If he had to tell Kirsten and Sandy the truth about all this, the weight loss, the binging and purging, he was going to have one last hurray before he had to do it.

He snuck out the pool house doors, looking into the house, seeing Sandy and Kirsten smiling in the kitchen and felt lower than low. He didn’t feel human, like he was some kind of creature. He peeled his gaze away and ran to the Range Rover, speeding off in the direction of the next town.

When he was safely out of Newport, he pulled up to 2 different fast food restaurants, got enough food from both to feed 4 people, making sure to get 4 drinks as well even though he didn’t know why he bothered at all anymore. He pulled over in a park and ate it all, the sun setting, throwing everything into long shadows and darkness. He ate until he felt sick, threw up in a bush, cleaned his hands with a wet wipe and then did it again. And again. He did it until he had no more money. Once he was broke, he considered going to the 24-hour grocery store and stealing food like he used to when he was a kid, hungry after one of his Mom’s benders. But even he couldn’t justify that.

Ryan got back into the car and the world tilted wildly. He had black spots in his vision and he had to stop to breath through them before he started the car and drove back to Newport, exhausted and terrified for what he’d find when he got home.

********

When he pulled into the drive-way, Sandy and Kirsten were waiting outside on their cellphones.

“Ryan!” He heard Kirsten exclaim.

“Ryan, give me the keys! You had no right to take the car afterhours, do you understand how worried you made us. We called half the damn neighbourhood!” Sandy yelled, opening the door and motioning for Ryan to get out with one hand.

Ryan got out of the car and stumbled, black spots entering his vision again. Sandy was on him immediately, grabbing him at the shoulders, steadying him.

Sandy went from angry to concerned in a second. “Ryan, are you okay? Hey, kid, look at me.”

Ryan couldn’t seem to stand upright and he leaned against Sandy. He felt shame and fear run through his body. Why couldn’t he stand up? What was happening to him?

Sandy guided Ryan to the ground, so he was sitting instead of leaning his full weight on Sandy. Kirsten crouched down beside and said sadly “We know, Ryan. Seth told us everything.”

Ryan looked at her, shame burning in his belly and her blue eyes were the last thing he saw before the world went black.


	7. Chapter 7

Ryan woke up when the ambulance was pulling into the drive-way. He couldn’t seem to get up, his muscles weak and cramping but he felt Sandy’s hand on his cheek shaking him awake. 

“Ryan, Ryan, come on, Ryan, wake up.” 

He opened his eyes and saw a paramedic walk up to him with a stretcher. Seth was watching from the doorway while Kirsten talked hurriedly with another paramedic. 

“Have you had anything to drink tonight, son? Any drugs?” The paramedic asked Ryan before he stuck a blood pressure cuff on his arm and a pulse oximeter on his finger. Sandy moved out of the way, still kneeling on the ground. 

“No” Ryan answered, feeling blurry and far away. His field of vision was collapsing, seeming to pulse in and out and Ryan, for the first time, felt fear that he had done some real damage to himself. Why hadn’t he just gone with Seth into the house? He had thrown up so many times today he couldn’t even count. 

With the 2 paramedics' help, Ryan got on the stretcher and was wheeled into the ambulance. “Only one can ride with us to the hospital.” He heard one of the paramedics say.

“I’ll come.” Sandy said quickly. “Meet us at the hospital, Kirsten.” He yelled over the sound of the siren as it started whirring. 

********

Ryan sat in his hospital gown in the Emergency Room, attached to several bags of saline and electrolytes. He would be sitting there for at least another eight hours. He had found out from the ER doctor that he had low potassium, that potassium levels as low as he had could kill him, send him into cardiac arrest. He didn’t know what to think. He couldn’t tell the doctor how many times he had thrown up that day when he’d asked. Couldn’t remember himself. The doctor had obviously been filled in by Kirsten and Sandy because the doctor had asked Ryan how long he’d been _bulimic_ and Ryan had winced at the word. He’d never once said that word in his head or out loud and hearing it, in front of Sandy and Kirsten no less, made him want to curl up and die. 

Sandy and Kirsten stood outside the ER bay, while a nurse fiddled with the machine taking Ryan’s vitals every 15 minutes. He had sticky electrodes stuck all over his body, measuring his heart rate and just had his blood drawn for the second time since he had gotten to the hospital. 

Once the nurse was gone, giving Ryan a curt smile before she left, Sandy and Kirsten appeared from behind the curtain.

“You gave us quite the scare, kid.” Sandy said, breaking the silence. He looked tired, in his work clothes still, disheveled. It was 3am and the fluorescent lights overhead were giving Ryan a headache. 

Ryan didn’t know what to say to that so he didn’t say anything at all. Kirsten walked around Ryan’s hospital bed and sat down in a chair beside it. She grabbed his hand, the one with the callus on it he knew was from acid and his teeth when he stuck it down his throat. He wanted to pull away but he didn’t, knowing it was probably more for Kirsten’s sake than his own. 

“I’m sorry, Ryan. I’m sorry we didn’t catch this sooner.” Kirsten said, looking as ashamed as Ryan felt. How could they have known when he had done everything in his control to make them blind to what he was doing. He couldn’t blame them. In fact, if he had his way, they’d still be none the wiser and Ryan would be asleep and waking up tomorrow with plans to do it all over again.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Ryan said, his voice quiet and hoarse although he had meant it to sound strong. He didn’t have any fight in him left, he thought. 

“You’re not fine. This is not fine.” Sandy interjected, his words stern but soft. “You’re in the ER, your heart rate is messed up and we’re going to talk about this-”

“Later. We’re going to talk about this later. Tomorrow. Get some sleep if you can. Your body’s been through a lot. You need your sleep.” Kirsten interrupted. 

The potassium burned as it went into Ryan’s veins and he winced. He was exhausted and he nodded his head, closed his eyes. He was asleep soon afterwards, even with the lights on above his bed. 

********

He was woken up by a phlebotomist in the morning, asking his name and date of birth before she took his blood again. Sandy was gone, getting coffee after a sleepless night for him and Kirsten, who had both stayed the night. Kirsten was sitting in the chair, said “Good morning” with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

Ryan shrugged, “Is it?” He said with a self-deprecating laugh. 

“It’s good you’re here, Ryan. I’m glad you're still with us.” She reached out for his hand again. “The doctors say your levels are better. They’ll be coming around in a few minutes to speak to you.” 

Sandy returned with two cups of coffee. “Have the doctors come yet?” He asked.

“Not yet, I was just telling Ryan they’ll be here any minute.”

With that a doctor swept through the curtain around the ER bay. “Good morning, Mr. Atwood. Mr. Cohen, Mrs. Cohen. I’m Dr. Smithe and I’ll be your doctor today. So you’re looking to go home this morning, is that right?” Dr. Smithe looked over Ryan’s chart. “Your electrolyte levels have come up and you’re no longer dehydrated but I was wondering, Mr. Atwood, if you would consider staying on the psychiatric ward for a few days so you can be assessed.”

Ryan balked at that. “No! No, I want to go home. I’ll be fine, I’ll stop. I just want to go home.” Ryan felt his worst fears flash in his head, being locked up forever, forgotten in a ward for crazy people. He remembered busting Marissa out and knew he’d have no one who’d do the same for him. 

“Ryan… maybe this would be good for you. Just a few days. Just until you can see a psychiatrist, until we can make a plan.” Sandy said. 

“A plan for what? Locking me up against my will?” Ryan said acerbically but he just felt scared and tired. 

“We can’t legally institutionalize you against your will, Mr. Atwood. You’re over 16 and unless your BMI falls below 14 or this happens on a regular basis, this is your choice. You have all the power here.” Dr. Smithe said, looking at Ryan so calmly Ryan wanted to punch him in the face. 

“Well, then I want to go home.” Ryan said, looking at Kirsten and Sandy. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want. Just let me come home.” 

Kirsten looked at Sandy, unsure in her gaze. “If you come home, Ryan, things are going to change.” She said. “You’re not going to have the luxury of privacy anymore. Not until we can build some trust again.” She sighed. “I’ve spoken to the psychiatrist on call and he had some suggestions for how to help you. You’re going to eat all your meals with someone and you’re going to sit with someone for an hour afterwards. No running off, no exercising. No car either. Your allowance is going to be cut off until we can be sure you can be trusted with it again. Seth found your scale and you’re going to be weighed once a week but otherwise no scale either.”

Seth had found his scale? He felt a pang of anger and shame. He couldn’t see any way out of this situation so he knew he just had to agree and figure out how serious the Cohen’s were about this later. 

“Okay.” Ryan said, nodding his head. “If it means no hospitals, I can do that.”

Dr. Smithe cleared his throat. “Mr. Atwood, this will happen again if you don’t change your behavior. If you understand that, then I can draw up the discharge papers.”

Sandy and Kirsten looked at each other, their expressions inscrutable, something only they could interpret, and then they looked at Ryan. “Let’s get you home, Ryan.” Sandy said, slapping him on the shoulder. He looked a little taken aback at how little there was to Ryan now, kept his hand on his shoulder for longer than necessary. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but just smiled instead. It looked forced. 

********

When they got home, Ryan walked in the direction of the pool house before Sandy grabbed him by shoulder and said “Not yet, Ryan. We have to weigh you first.” 

Ryan had figured this day couldn’t get any worse but he knew immediately he was wrong. Weighing himself used to bring him a joy he couldn’t articulate but now all he felt was dread and embarrassment at being found out for the fuck up that he was. Sandy led Ryan to the master bathroom, Kirsten close behind him but staying back a step. 

“I’ll let you two do it. Ryan, you’re going to need to take off your jeans and your sweater.” Kirsten said before going into her bedroom. Ryan felt resigned to the fact that without the protection of his over clothes, Sandy would see exactly how much damage Ryan had done to his body. Even he saw he was skinny, no longer muscular, no longer as sturdy and stocky as he was last year. Sandy at least gave him the privacy of getting undressed to his boxers and undershirt by himself. 

Ryan looked in the floor length mirror in the bathroom. Felt his collarbones, his hip bones, the ribs that were starting to poke out from underneath his skin. He used to feel pride when he’d do this but now he just felt sick. 

Sandy knocked on the door “You done, Ryan?” He said opening the door. Sandy walked in and then took a step back, as if propelled by a physical force. “Ryan… oh, Ryan, what have you done to yourself.” He looked a little bug eyed before he got his composure back and walked to get the scale from under the bathroom cupboard. “This.” He said, pointing at the scale. “This will be hidden after today. Only me and Kirsten will know where it is. We shouldn’t have the thing at all.” He placed the scale on the ground and motioned to Ryan. “Well, let’s see what we’re working with.”

Ryan honestly didn’t know. He hadn’t weighed himself since last week and he didn’t know if he had plateaued, gained or lost weight. He got on the scale and held his breath as the number rose.

“115.2 lbs… Ryan, do you understand how serious this is?” 

Ryan did the math in his head and knew he was officially underweight. He didn’t want to say anything about it though. He thought it was obvious enough to the both of them. And despite hating worrying Sandy, despite the concern and disappointment on Sandy’s face, Ryan had to admit he felt some amount of sick pride now that he had gotten thin enough to warrant real concern. 

“I do. Trust me, Sandy. I know”. And he did know. He wasn’t stupid. He had just spent the night in the hospital after passing out in the drive-way. How could he not know. He just didn’t know if he cared. 

“Well, good. Because this ends now. Get dressed and go downstairs, we’ll be joining you for breakfast soon.” 

And with that, Ryan was alone in the bathroom, with nothing but the bones of him reflected in the mirror.


	8. Chapter 8

Since the day Ryan had gotten home from the hospital, the entire house felt tense and rigid. Sandy and Kirsten tried their best to make mealtimes normal but he knew all eyes were on him the minute food was put in front of him. He ate slowly, methodically, when all he really wanted to do was stuff his face and run to the bathroom and get rid of everything, until he couldn’t feel even his self-hatred anymore. Sometimes he’d be so focused on eating, Sandy or Kirsten would have to remind him to hurry up, everyone at the table already finished. 

Seth hadn’t really forgiven Ryan for running away after their last confrontation, choosing to go to his room when Ryan had to wait in the living room, an hour on the clock ticking down until he could have any privacy. He felt guilty for that, for his _eating disorder_ \- because he knew that, that he had an eating disorder- getting in between the two of them but it was also easier not having to be faced with his mistakes when Seth wasn’t around. 

He also knew that he could throw up after the hour was up, that his digestive system probably was still fucked up enough that he could get something out, but he didn’t want to risk being caught again. Not when he was just gaining the trust and respect from the Cohen’s again. 

Finals came and went and Ryan got good grades. Now he would be a senior and he’d have to think about college, something he never thought he’d have to do while he was in Chino. He was doing well but his hunger was still there, coupled now with an extreme frustration that plagued him at all hours of the day and night. Sometimes he felt like he’d explode, wanting to punch his fist through one of the windows in the pool house if it meant getting some of the frustration out, if it would quiet his mind. 

But he never did. He ate his food and he forced a smile and he sat on the couch watching reruns with Sandy or Kirsten and then he slunked off to the pool house to lie in his bed, wondering how things could possibly get worse. 

********

After a month, Ryan had only put on a pound and so Sandy took him to see Dr. Green again who muttered about hypermetabolism and starvation and its effects on the body, especially a teenage boy. He needed to up his food intake to almost twice what he’d normally eat to gain back to a BMI of at least 20 before Sandy and Kirsten would ease any of the restrictions they were putting on him. 

Ryan didn’t like the sound of that. He already felt uncomfortable and full all the time. On the bright side, his hunger had subsided a bit, coming on less and less frequently, less strong and all encompassing. 

Ryan was sitting on his bed, starting on his summer reading for next quarter, when he heard a knock on the door. 

“Hi Ryan… uh, long time, no see.” It was Marissa, looking long and lanky framed golden by the summer sun. Ryan’s heart ached as he saw her and he wondered how much she knew. Seth had promised to keep his hospital visit a secret, even from Summer, especially from Summer, so he had no idea what Marissa could know. 

“Uh… hi.” Ryan said awkwardly back. “What’s up, how’ve you been?”

Marissa walked in and sat in one of the wicker chairs by his bed. “I could ask you the same question.” She said, wryly. They were quiet for a moment before Marissa sighed and broke the silence. “I’ve missed you, you know. It seemed like you just disappeared one day. Like you were there and then you weren’t, not really.” 

Ryan’s heart sped up and he suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. He didn’t want to have this conversation, not with Marissa.

“Yeah, well… I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.” He fell silent not knowing what else to say, how to explain himself.

“When I was in grade 9, I stopped eating for a while.” Marissa said, softly, looking at the floor. “I just felt like I couldn’t control anything in my life. I felt like everything was so big and then I was so big and I just wanted to be smaller. So I just… stopped eating. Just for a while. My parents threatened to send me to treatment and then I snapped out of it.” Marissa tucked her hair behind her ear.

Ryan’s heart ached for her. Unfortunately, he knew more than most what that felt like but he didn’t want to be having this conversation either. He was supposed to be the one comforting Marissa, not the other way around. He didn’t dare say anything, knowing she probably knew just exactly why Ryan had “disappeared” this year but not wanting to name it. Naming it made it real, too real for Ryan. 

“I guess I just came here to tell you that. That if you ever need to talk, I’m here for you.”

“Did Seth tell you?” Ryan said, after a minute. 

“Tell me what, Ryan? That you’ve lost a bunch of weight, that you were kicked off the soccer team for it? No, Seth didn’t tell me. I’ve kind of known for a while. But I’d like it if you told me.” She said, hope in her voice. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ryan said curtly. 

Marissa looked hurt at that, a flash of pain coming over her face before being obscured by whatever reserve she had. “Well, if you ever want to… I’m here.” 

She got up from the chair and turned to leave. But not before she stopped once more and looked at Ryan. “I love you, Ryan. You know that, right? Nothing you’ll ever do will ever change that. You’re my friend. And when you want to talk, I’m just a phone call away.”

Ryan nodded his head. He’d never call her but it was nice to imagine it, spilling everything he had hidden for so long, the worry, the regret, the fear. The way he hated himself when he looked in the mirror. Maybe she would understand but he couldn’t ask that of her, couldn’t ask that of himself. He watched as she left the poolhouse and he felt his eyes burn and he couldn’t have that, afraid he’d never stop crying once he started. Instead, he pressed his hands to his eyes and when that didn’t work, rolled on to his bed and screamed into one of the pillows, wanting to binge and purge more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. 

********

That night, Ryan woke up in a cold sweat. He had soaked through his sheets and the blanket, a result of the hypermetabolism he was experiencing sending his body into overdrive especially at night. He got changed into new sleep clothes, put a towel down on the bed, ignoring the hunger pangs in his stomach. 

That’s when he suddenly got an idea. Every light in the house was off, everyone asleep at 2:30am. He was the only one awake and therefore he finally had free reign to do whatever he wanted to and what he wanted was to eat as much as he humanly could and then throw it all up again. He breathed in, tried to fight the urge but once the idea was formed he didn’t see another choice. He got up, seemingly in a fugue state, and somehow ended up in the kitchen shoving food into his backpack, carrying what he couldn’t fit in plastic bags. He didn’t care that in the morning there’d be questions about where the food had gone. He didn’t care about anything but numbing out, about silencing the voice in his head for the first time in weeks. He took everything he could get his hands on. Leftovers, chips, cereal, fruit, a can of whipped cream, ice cream, yogurt, bagels, two loaves of bread, a jar of peanut butter, jam, even a bottle of mustard. He snuck back to the pool house and began eating, pausing only to throw up, so he could eat again. 

He ate for hours and felt nothing but clear numbness, finally free from all his thoughts. When he had finished all the food, he went back to the bathroom and stuck his fingers down his throat. He started gagging over the intrusion and that’s when the bathroom door opened.

Ryan startled, realising he had forgotten to lock the door. Sandy stared at him with wide eyes, standing there in his robe, a horrified look on his face. It was 7am. He realised he had lost track of time, forgotten to clean up the pool house in his drive to continue eating and now Sandy could see what a fuck up he was, could see he had polished off even a bottle of mustard in his desperation to get rid of his feelings. 

“I can explain-” Ryan started, taking his fingers out of his mouth. 

“What, Ryan? Explain what. You think I don’t know what’s happening here? I caught you with your fingers down your throat. Clean yourself up, we have to talk inside.” 

He turned to leave and Ryan closed the bathroom door, making sure to lock it this time. He figured since he got caught he might as well finish and gagged until yellow bile came up and his fear was tempered once again. 

********

Ryan cleaned up the pool house of all the debris from the morning and then reluctantly walked to the main house. 

When he walked in, Seth was in the kitchen, looking in all the cupboards. “Mom, where’d the cereal go? And the bread? And the bagels?” He called out to his parents in the other room. “Well, what am I going to eat for breakfast now, huh.” He whispered to himself before noticing Ryan had walked in.

“Hi Seth.” Ryan said awkwardly. “You’re not going to find much. I, uh… that’s my fault.” 

“Your fault?” Seth said before a light bulb went off in his brain and Ryan saw a look of recognition in his eyes. “You okay, man? There’s like… nothing left in this kitchen. Not that that’s bad. I mean it is bad. But I mean it’s okay, you made a mistake, I’m sure everyone will understand if you come clean-”

“Sandy… he knows already.” Ryan said sheepishly, cutting off Seth’s babbling, seeing he was flustered and wanting to throw a lift raft out to him. “He caught me. This morning.”

“Caught you? Again, Ryan? You were doing so well. What happened?” Seth asked, suddenly serious. 

Kirsten walked into the kitchen then, before Ryan could explain anything to Seth. “Ryan, there you are. Come into the living room please. Seth, go to your room and we’ll call you down when we’re finished talking.”

“My room? What, am I 12? Mom, what’s going on?” Seth asked.

“Ryan has a lot to talk about with us, Seth. Please. We’ll call you down in a bit. We have to talk to you too.”

With that Seth narrowed his eyes, looked at Ryan, gave him a shrug and a smile and went to his room without another complaint. 

It was just Kirsten and Ryan now, in the kitchen, and Kirsten came up to Ryan, took him by the cheek and smiled sadly at him. “You’re not in trouble, Ryan. We’re worried about you. All of us.” 

She turned to walk to the living room, motioning for Ryan to follow her. Ryan sat on the couch opposite Sandy and Kirsten, feeling like he was in front of a firing squad and not the two people who had taken him in a year ago. He bit his cheeks to keep from fidgeting, full of nervous energy even though he had gotten barely any sleep last night. Finally, Sandy broke the silence.

“So… last night, this morning, whatever. Can you explain what happened?”

Ryan really couldn’t. How could he explain the hunger he felt, the gnawing need to numb himself out, to not feel anything. He shrugged instead of saying anything. 

“Okay, then why don’t I take a stab at it.” Sandy said. “You woke up, got overwhelmed or scared or stressed out, raided the kitchen and then made yourself sick. Is that accurate?”

Ryan opened his mouth to deny it but stopped because Sandy was right. That was what happened, at the core of it. 

“I… yeah.” Ryan said, looking at the ground. 

“And you couldn’t have come to us first? Before you hurt yourself in this way?” Sandy said, his voice getting soft and sad. 

“You were asleep.” Ryan said. 

“It doesn’t matter if we were asleep, Ryan. I’d rather lose an hour of sleep then have you hurt yourself like this.” Kirsten interjected. “Ryan, maybe it’s time we think about treatment for your eating disorder.”

Ryan felt his chest tighten, all the wind knocked out of him. “What… like a hospital? You’re going to lock me up?”

“No, not a hospital, kid.” Sandy spoke up. “A residential treatment program for teenagers like yourself. Who are going through what you’re going through.” Sandy sighed “We’re at an impasse, Ryan. You’re not gaining weight here because you need specialised dietary care and you’re not getting help with your problems because you need specialised therapeutic care. Now, last night… that just showed us how difficult this is for you. This isn’t about blame or punishment, this is about how you cleared out our entire kitchen in one night and that, if we let you, it wouldn’t be the last time. It’s about how you can die from this. How one bad night could have us finding you dead in your bed of a heart attack.” Sandy’s voice cracked and he breathed, collecting himself. “We couldn’t live with ourselves if we just let that happen.” 

Ryan was shocked, stunned and silent. Before he could say no, that no way in a million years would he ever consider going to some treatment facility full of fucked up teens, Kirsten added “It would be completely voluntary, Ryan. No locked doors. No one forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do. You’re old enough to make this decision for yourself. You have to make the decision before you get too ill and you force our hand. Before you force the state’s hand.”

“What does that mean?” Ryan asked, defensively. 

Kirsten looked at Sandy and then turned to Ryan. “It means that if you lose any more weight, if you need to go to the hospital again, the state can intervene and put you in a psychiatric ward against your will. Even though we’re your guardians, we can’t protect you from that.” 

Ryan thought about the psych ward. The green walls, the sterile atmosphere, thick with other people’s pain and suffering. He had enough of that on his own, thank you very much. He thought of Sandy’s voice cracking and Seth hugging him and Kirsten’s hand on his cheek. He thought of the moulding in the pool house bathroom, the pattern of the tile he had memorized as he bent over the toilet to throw up countless times. He thought of the hunger that coarse through his body, enveloping him, even now after he had spent 6 hours attending to it.

“Okay.” Ryan choked out.

“Okay?” Sandy asked. 

“I’ll go.” Ryan said, barely able to believe himself. 

Sandy and Kirsten both simultaneously cheered, catching themselves and tempering their happiness as Kirsten grabbed Ryan’s hand. 

“It’ll take a few days, maybe a week to set everything up.” Kirsten said. “Until then we have to discuss how we can keep you safe before you go.” 

“What do you mean?” Ryan said. 

Sandy clasped his hands together, shook his head, as if to gather his thoughts and answered “We’ve been doing some reading, talking to some of the professionals at the centre, about what would help you, just until you can get there. People often go a little wild before entering treatment, any kind of treatment, because it feels so scary to know you can’t use your number one coping mechanism once you’re there. So we’ve made the tough decision to lock the cupboards and the fridge-” Ryan rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to protest but Sandy steamrolled through him “just for this week, just until you’re safe at the treatment centre.”

“So you’re saying I can’t control myself?” Ryan replied acerbically although he knew Sandy was right. He couldn’t control himself. That was the problem. 

“No, we’re saying we couldn’t live with ourselves if you hurt yourself in our house. It’s not about whether or not you can control yourself. It’s about the eating disorder controlling you.” Sandy replied, sounding compassionate and level-headed. 

“What about Seth?” Ryan asked. He didn’t think Seth would be too thrilled about having to ask his parents for a key to get a piece of fruit in the morning. 

“What about Seth?” Sandy laughed. “He’ll deal. He wants to help you too, you know. That night you left, he was beside himself. You scared him half to death. He’ll be thrilled to know you’re getting help.”

“And it’ll be over the summer so you won’t have to miss any classes at Harbour.” Kirsten added, predicting Ryan’s next thought. 

Ryan nodded his head. He felt fear gather in his stomach, an uneasiness. He wished he felt any hope at all but all he wanted to do was run away.

********

Ryan white knuckled his way through the next week. The fridge and cupboards were all locked with latches and padlocks and Ryan felt so much shame when he passed them that he steered clear of the kitchen except for the meal times he was forced to endure. Sandy and Kirsten thankfully don’t make him follow Dr. Green’s advice to drink the food replacement drinks he’d prescribed on top of the food he’d already been eating, a blessing that came from Ryan agreeing to go to treatment. 

“Just do your best, kid.” Sandy had said, as Ryan pushed his food around his plate, barely eating anything. They had stopped making him even finish his food. As long as he ate something, he could leave the table and sit in the living room for his requisite hour, where Seth had started joining him again much to Ryan’s surprise. 

One night after dinner, the day before he was scheduled to leave for 3 months at Sunny Hill, California’s foremost eating disorder recovery center for teenagers, Seth plopped down beside him on the couch and looked at Ryan with some awkwardness in his eyes. 

“I’m going to miss you, you know. When you’re gone. By the time you’re back it’ll be school again. A whole damn summer without any Seth/Ryan time.” Seth sighed. “I’ll visit you though. It’s only an hour away- I mean if you want me to.” Seth ended, weakly. 

Ryan’s chest clenched and he felt like dirt all over again. He knew he had neglected Seth, Marissa, everyone in his life because he was so caught up in his eating disorder. He had lost almost 45 lbs and everyone with it. Almost his own life too. 

“Yeah, that’d be good.” Ryan forced a smile. 

They sat for a while, playing video games long past the hour Ryan needed to sit in the living room, chatting about nothing, feeling almost normal. 

Then Seth got suddenly quiet and turned around to look at Ryan. “Can I ask you something kind of… kind of personal, I guess? Like about your… what you do? 

Ryan raised his eyebrows and said “You mean about my eating disorder?”

Seth flinched and nodded his head looking pained. “Why do you do it, man? You were always so fit. I mean your first night here you took on Luke freaking Ward. And, no offense, but I don’t think you could take him now.”

Ryan sighed and threw his head against the couch. If he owed anyone an explanation it was Seth, Seth who he blew off to exercise and starve and binge and purge for months. His first friend in Newport, his almost brother. 

Ryan opened his mouth to speak, closed it. “It… it didn’t start out this way. I honestly was just trying to get fitter. Work out more, eat healthier. Then it got more and more messed up, things felt more and more out of my control and then I lost weight and was afraid to gain it back, afraid I’d lose even more control. Then it wasn’t really about losing weight at all. It wasn’t about anything.” Ryan couldn’t seem to look at Seth but he heard Seth move, turn to him. “Do you think I like the person I am right now? I know I’m not very attractive to look at. I used to be strong. I used to not even think about food or my body. It was better that way.”

Seth was quiet for a minute. “That’s intense, man. I wish I knew what to say. I wish I could do something.”

“You can’t do anything. No one can. You saw what happens when I’m left alone to my own devices. I don’t know if I can stop.” Ryan felt his eyes burn and he clenched his fists to keep himself from totally losing it, to keep himself from sobbing right there in the living room, Final Fantasy paused on the TV. 

“That’s why you’re going to Sunny Hill, right? They’ll know what to do.” Seth put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder and Ryan flinched, closer to tears by the second.

“Yeah.” Ryan said. “I better go start packing.” He wiped his eyes and got up from the couch, turning to go to the pool house. 

“Oh, I have the perfect thing for you!” Seth exclaimed. “How do you feel about Mario and his friends in the Mushroom Kingdom? You can take my GameBoy. Oh and you can take my iPod, preloaded with only the finest indie hits. I’m sure there’s not going to be much to do at a…” Seth stopped himself. “At Sunny Hill.” He finished with an awkward smile. “Besides I want the new iPod mini and Mom will have to say yes if I told you I gave you my old one.” 

Ryan couldn’t help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left now. Should be up in the next few days.


	9. Epilogue: Three Months Later

Ryan woke up in his room at Sunny Hill excited and terrified to go home. He had spent the last 3 months learning how to eat again, learning about how he saw himself, how he saw his body with a group of 14 other teens, all of them girls. He often felt alienated, weird, and some of the girls took a while to warm up to him, each with their own stories of trauma, their own reasons for distrusting people like him- men, boys. Ryan had listened to the girls’ stories in group therapy and was horrified at the capacity for violence in the world even though he knew it himself too. 

It took awhile for Ryan to open up as well. Sunny Hill had a three strike rule, three warnings and then you weren’t allowed to stay in the program anymore, were forced to go home and enter the world of out-of-state or in-patient treatment, getting shuffled around psych wards and hospitals or worse, no treatment at all. Ryan had used two of his strikes when he was caught purging in the centre and once when he hid a small piece of cake in a napkin, learning tips from some of the less compliant patients along the way. He had smartened up after that, after he had to tell Sandy and Kirsten in their family therapy sessions just what he had done and, more humiliatingly, why he had done it. 

The rules of Sandy Hill were vast and far reaching. For the first two months, Ryan couldn’t use the bathroom by himself, would have to sing in front of a nurse or counselor while he did his business if he didn’t want them directly staring at him while he did it. For the first 6 weeks, he was watched at every meal, had to finish every crumb on his plate on top of the food replacement drinks he had to take when he wasn’t gaining the requisite 2 lbs a week, his body in hypermetabolic overdrive. He had to attend 4 hours of therapy a day, group sessions, individual sessions, cognitive behavioural classes, art and movement therapy which he hated but accepted as a necessary evil of getting out of this place. The only respite were his weekends, which were largely free and spent going on day passes with the Cohen’s exploring L.A., where Sunny Hill was located, as long as Ryan didn’t go over his exercise limits for the day. And yes, he had found out, walking was exercise too. 

Plus Ryan couldn’t help but admit it was refreshing and relieving to have people around him who understood the hunger he felt, still sometimes felt, even if they were girls and had different societal pressures around bodies and thinness than he did. There was a girl named Cynthia, with binge-purge anorexia like him, who was one of the first of the girls to take a shine to him and sat beside him at meals the first few days he was there. She encouraged him to finish them, joked with him during the hour they weren’t allowed to do anything but sit in the living area and watch TV, played Seth’s GameBoy with him, helping him defeat Bowser time and time again. She reminded him of Seth and he thought Seth would like her too. In another life, Ryan would’ve maybe even taken her out on a date. 

This was Cynthia’s second time at Sunny Hill and she knew the ropes and showed them to Ryan those first few days. For that, he was eternally grateful and when she graduated from the program, they exchanged numbers but Ryan sort of knew he wouldn’t ever call her. He wanted this chapter of his life closed and reminders would just make it harder. 

Ryan had already packed, rolled his suitcase and took his backpack to the reception desk when he saw Sandy, Kirsten and Seth turn down the hallway to greet him.

“Hey Ryan! Let’s blow this joint! You’re a free man now.” Seth said excitedly, walking up to give him a hug which made Ryan smile. 

Sandy and Kirsten hugged Ryan too, Kirsten telling Ryan how proud she was of his progress while Sandy filled out the discharge paperwork and then loaded Ryan’s things in the Range Rover. 

The whole time Ryan was at Sunny Hill, he wasn’t told his weight, only whether he had reached his “maintenance” goal. Ryan was still darkly curious about it but the Cohen’s never talked about his body or how he looked since getting a talking to from Ryan’s therapist about boundaries and how Ryan needed to trust himself while he was eating normally and not other people’s perceptions. They never even commented on the fact that he looked healthier, stronger, more like himself. It drove Ryan crazy but he knew deep down that it was for the best.

When they got back home, Ryan’s meal plan was placed in a folder in the kitchen and he was set up with a therapist and a dietician where he was blindly weighed every two weeks just to make sure he was maintaining. He was starting at Harbour the next week and he was nervous, knowing he had gained weight and that people had seen him implode spectacularly last school year. Besides being the boy who burnt down a house, he was now the boy who spent the summer in treatment for an eating disorder and he knew he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

The morning they were headed to school, during his breakfast of peanut butter on toast with a piece of fruit and yogurt, every food group accounted for as per his meal plan, Seth noticed he was quieter than even he usually was.

“Hey, man. It’ll be alright. I’ll protect you from the beasts of Harbour. Usually that’s your job but at least we’ll both die trying, right?” Seth quipped, eating his bagel and cream cheese.

Ryan smiled, nodded his head and thought that no matter what happened at school, at least he had this refuge, his family with the Cohen’s, his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Just a short update to tie it all together today.
> 
> I can't believe how many people have read this story because it's really such an old fandom! I appreciate any feedback and I might write the future!fic that's kicking around my head in this 'verse. 
> 
> Again, thank you for reading and appreciating this little self-indulgent fic.


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